


Next to Me

by Midnite_Siren



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Childhood Friends, Domestic Moments, Falling In Love, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friends to More Than Friends, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Minor Acxa/Veronica (Voltron), Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Music as Storyline Guide, Pining, Slow Burn, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:40:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28044081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnite_Siren/pseuds/Midnite_Siren
Summary: Love is Complicated. Adulting is tiring. What are you supposed to do when one day you wake up and you realize you're in love with your best friend? Nothing of course, because they’re not interested and they are already your best friend. Are you going to risk losing that?Aka. Modern AU Klance fic where Keith and Lance are best friends that share an apartment and are just trying to make their way through adulthood. One day something changes and one of them has to deal with new(or maybe old, very repressed) feelings for the other. A story of love in all its forms and the journey of finding it, losing it, choosing it, nurturing it and everything in between.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Kudos: 17





	1. Tightrope

**Author's Note:**

> So this my first time writing a fanfic so I apologize ahead of time if it seems choppy. The format will alternate between Keith’s and Lance’s POV, in the present(they’re around 23, close to a year out of college) and different points in the past. Expect a slow burn; they will get there eventually. Each chapter will be named after a song. I’m building a playlist to serve as a guide to the chapter themes(e.g. moods during each chapter, how characters are feeling). Also, I’m sorry for any bad Spanish, it isn’t my native language. I appreciate everyone who will come along on the ride, and please respect the ships.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You gotta keep your balance or you fall into the gap, It's a challenge but I manage" (Tightrope - Janelle Monáe)

Nearly a year out of college, one would think they would have a better grasp on handling life, and yet Lance regularly finds himself struggling through the trials of adulting. At least he had his crew beside him. Lance knows he’s blessed to have friends like his. Hunk is the nicest teddy bear ever, his best bro. Despite her constant sarcasm, Pidge is his partner in crime. Allura is his daily inspiration for public service, the physical embodiment of grace and authority. Shiro is his dad away from home, firm but kind, what he wanted to be when he grew up. Then there's Keith. If there was one thing Lance could appreciate about Keith, it was that he was honest. Even as a kid when Lance first met him. Honest with his thoughts and honest with his actions. Sometimes he wished Keith would humor him, and on the rare occasion he would, but he’d long given up that hope. The plus side was that Lance didn’t have to pretend around Keith either. No need for fluffing or facades. Keith would accept him at his best, worst and most mundane.

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

“Good work out there today Kogane, you really saved our behinds with that cardiac arrest.”

“Just doing my job, but thank you Sir.” Keith replies as unzips his dark navy jacket.

He lets out a heavy sigh as he exits the station doors and approaches the ruby red motorcycle in the lot beside the flowering dogwood. “Hey Minnie, miss me?” 

It was still dark, a few stars speckled across the night sky. _Soon. Soon shower, cereal and bed_ , he thinks to himself while feeling the cold wind whip against his collar. It’s been nearly a year now and he can’t say it was a particularly eventful shift. However, with it only being the sixth time he’s done a 24-hour rotation, he still can’t say he’s used to it. Thank goodness tomorrow was Saturday so he has the rest of the weekend to recover. 

He trudges up the flight of stairs to the entrance of his apartment as streaks of amber start peaking out beyond the horizon. He turns the front door key. The door creaks as it opens and Keith fumbles in the dark to get his shoes off. _Shower, cereal and bed_ , he repeats to himself. 

He hears a muffled “Mullet, that you?” as he reaches for the faucet. 

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

Swinging a towel over shoulder to dry his still damp hair, he slowly makes his way out of the bathroom to the kitchen. Even before he can get there, his nose picks up a hint of smoke and maple wafting in the air. He pulls out a bowl from one of the bottom cabinets, plopping himself at the dining table as he ponders over HoneyBunchesofOats or Cheerios. 

“Geez man, you look like shit.” says Lance as he sets down two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon, “Here” lightly pushing one plate towards Keith.

“You made breakfast?” 

“Yup. Heard you close the door and figured you’re probably exhausted since it’s practically morning.”

“Thanks.” Lance wasn’t an impressive cook, in fact, he had set the smoke detector off multiple times from culinary exploits since moving in together, but Keith was grateful for the gesture all the same. 

“I don't know how you do it man. No, scratch that. I forgot you’re a closeted vampire.”

“Vampires sleep during the day.”

“Or that’s what they want you to think. Just because they don’t come out during the day doesn't mean they're sleeping.”

“You could say the same about humans at night.”

Keith smiles on the inside when he sees Lance’s brow knit, struggling to think of a comeback. In a possible attempt to dismiss his defeat, Lance sideways, “Anyways, remember like a month ago I mentioned a grocery co-op client with an obsession with color-coordinated fruit banners for their twitter.”

“Uhuh.” Keith didn’t actually remember but he figures Lance just wants a pair of ears to vent his frustrations to.

“Well, they’re back and being a royal pain-in-the-neck. They are now requesting, and by requesting I mean demanding, unique beverage related icons for every donation shoutout. Seriously, there’s only so many variations on the latte icons you can use without running into copyright issues!”

“Mmmm.”

“Speaking of the royals,” Lance glances at the clock on the wall, “ _Mierda_! The Princess is gonna kill me if I’m late again.”

“Again?”

“Two times this week. I need to get a better alarm, or a new pillow.” Lance garbled as he hurriedly shoved the remaining contents on his plate food into his mouth. Less than half a minute later, Lance is already out of the kitchen and fumbling to nab his work bag and cotton blazer. “Don’t forget we have crew night with Pidge and Hunk tonight.” 

Keith simply nods his head in acknowledgement as he continues to chew his food.

“Cyaaaa,” he hollers, scrambling to kick his shoes on and dashes out the door.

“Later.” 

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

“But Dad,” Keith whines, clutching his father’s dark grey trousers.

“Good Morning Mr. Kogane” says the woman in the bright yellow sheath dress. She introduces herself, “I am Ms. Lewis”, as Keith keeps cowering behind his father’s leg. “And this must be Keith. The class is so excited to meet you” she says, shifting her gaze toward the boy.

“It’ll be alright buddy, I promise. You’ll have lots of fun.” John reassures Keith, gently nudging his son towards the woman.

“But Dad…”

“Remember what I said. Fear is a feeling.”

“Courage is a choice.” Keith finishes.

“That’s my boy.” John pats his son’s head, his face reading that of a proud parent.

Reluctantly, Keith releases his hold on his father and puts on a brave face before waving his father goodbye and heading down the hallway with Ms Lewis. The moment he enters the classroom, Keith finds twenty pairs of eyes trailing his movements.

“Good morning everyone, we have a new student joining us today. This is Keith. Let’s make him feel welcome alright?”

Timidly, Keith makes his way to the empty spot in the second row near the window.

“Cool backpack.” someone says from behind him as he sits down at his new desk.

“Thanks.” Keith replies without looking back.

The voice continues, “But Superman is cooler bec--- ” 

“Lance.” Ms. Lewis asserted from the front of the class, her eyes directed to somewhere behind Keith. “Like I was saying, today we’re learning about Matter and its three different states.”

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

“Mullet, you ready?” Lance calls out as he pushes through the front door.

No reply. So, he makes his way to Keith's room and knocks on the door.

“Come in.” he hears from inside.

Lance turns the door knob and steps into the room. “You ready?” 

“Seriously Mullet?” He sees Keith still in his sweatpants, sitting on the floor, sketchbook and pencil in hand, and clearly not ready.

“Oh hey Lance”, he taps his phone to check the time, “Oh shit, it’s that late already.” 

Keith stretches his arm and places the pencil and sketchbook on edge of his desk, before starting to strip off his t-shirt as he gets up off the carpet, and heads for his closet. 

“Ten minutes.” He sends Keith a frown right before he leaves the room to freshen up himself.

While wiping his face with a hand towel, Lance can’t help but think to himself. _It's not fair. How does Keith look that good with no effort. Even when he’s in sweatpants and rocking bedhead, he still looks as if it was a stylistic choice of image._ Lance however needs at least twenty minutes to look barely presentable, a full forty-five at minimum if he’s getting ready for a night out on the town or a date.

“Ready.” he hears Keith call from the living room, just as he finishes sprizing himself with body spray. 

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

They end up arriving fifteen minutes late to the restaurant.

“Look who finally decided to show up” says irritably Pidge as she readjusts her spectacles.

“Mullet wasn’t ready when I got back to pick him up.” claims Lance.

Keith rolls his eyes towards Lance. “Someone decided to take the main boulevard which always has traffic.”

“Hey, I don’t wanna risk driving _Azul_ down some dingy side streets, you nev---” 

“I don’t care who made who late.” Pidge interjects, “You’re late and I’m starving!” Her scowl is almost akin to gremlin, or what Keith imagines they would look like. But she’s been that way for as long as Keith has known her, testy when she’s running low on fuel. Mostly bark with a little bite.

“Yeah, let’s just get a table and order,” Hunk adds, seeming almost as eager as Pidge to get seated. That was likely for different reasons though. Keith recalls him raving about a special house sauce, and once Hunk started to rave about a food, everyone knew he wouldn’t stop until they agreed to go to the aforementioned place to try the dish or help him recreate it. “I heard this place has some to-die-for Arancini and I’m really hoping to get to try them before they sell out.”

They get seated at a table across the bar. Keith scans the menu, it's relatively small but with how giddy Hunk sounds as he elaborates on each dish, Keith assumes whatever he orders will be decent. 

The food arrives relatively quickly. Keith is thankful that Pidge’s hanger is finally quenched, lightening the group’s overall mood. Lance has just polished off the last piece of garlic bread when he poses, “So guess who scored this week?” He has that familiar smug look plastered across his face.

“FC Barcelona?” 

“Nice try Pidge. They’re a respectable team but not what I was talking about.”

“Pidge, on her Advanced Linear Optimization exam.” 

“Awww, thanks Hunk.” 

“Congrats Pidge, but no, again. Come on guys, don’t you want to hear about my romantic ventures?”

“Indulge us Lance, so I can add it to my running list of Lance’s RomComMisadventures.” 

“Haha, very funny." Lance dismisses Pidge's earlier comment. "Anyways, it worked like a charm.” 

“You’re gonna have to give us a little context there pal” Hunk hints for more specifics .

“Oh right. My pick up lines. I told her **Is it hot in here or is it just you?** And she laughed guys.”

“Nice one Lance.” Hunk reaches out to his side to give Lance a high five.

“You sure she wasn’t laughing at you?” Pidge snickers, eyes glued to the cellphone in her hand, the other on her drink.

“Obviously not, if not she wouldn’t have given me her number. You should try it sometime with Shay, Hunk then maybe you guys could do more than exchange schoolyard smiles and giggles.”

There’s now a tinge of pink on Hunk’s cheeks. “Thanks but no thanks Lance.” He comments. “Shay doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who’d respond well to that.”

“Well if you ever need any more charming tips. Oh, and guess who’s gotta date next Thursday? _Moi_. Thank you, thank you.” 

Almost done with the spaghetti on his plate, Keith finally decides to break his silence. “You forgot to mention how you came back broke.”

“Wait why were, are you broke?” Hunks now sounding two parts curious, one part concerned.

“I may or may not have spent too much on booze that night. And it’s only for this week. I get my paycheck on Monday,” Lance tries his best to pass off offhandedly as he fiddles with the last of tortellini on his plate.

“Ahh, so she traded her digits for free booze.” Pidge titters, sipping from the straw of her drink. “Also, how are you paying tonight?”

“With my body. Right Keith?” Lance says impishly, raising the pitch of his voice towards the end while shooting Keith comedically suggestive eyes.

“Lance, stop that,” he snaps back with annoyance.

“Ughh.” Pidge rolls her eyes. “Keith please explain before I barf up my calzone.” 

“Garbage and cleaning duty for two weeks.” 

“You’re too easy on him Keith. I would have at least added a box of toaster waffles.”

“Yeah, I remember back in freshman year he agreed to garbage for a month in exchange for two batches of chocolate chip cookies during finals.”

“Oh really?” In retrospect, he should have requested for pantry staples since Lance eats half of whatever he buys either way, but his mind happened to be resenting the thought of taking out the trash when Lance asked him to cover dinner.

Lance was quick to rebut. “Uhh, one, Pidge, anything Keith-related is never easy. Two, Hunk’s chocolate chip cookies are immaculate. Even if Keith tried, it wouldn’t be a worthy trade. And three, can we get back to the fact I scored a date with a hot chick?”

“Sorry Keith, I have to admit Hunk’s cookies are amazing.” 

“No, I believe you and from what I’ve tried at Sal’s, and it keeps getting better.” That was the truth. Every time he had the chance, Keith tried a new pastry item at _Vivace Sal_ , the cafe where Hunk worked part-time, and every time it surpassed the previous item in deliciousness. A part of him that believed that should he ever want to, Hunk could easily quit his PhD program and switch to working full-time as a pastry chef.

“Aww, thanks guys. It warms my heart to know you like my baked goods that much. The secret to baking is Love.”

“Guys can we focus on my hot date!” Lance yammers, eyebrows scrunched and one hand pressed to the table.

Looking as if he were to explode if he didn’t get a chance to go on about his date, they finally give in to his pleas. Lance spends the next twenty minutes talking their ears off about how attractive this girl was, and his potential ideas for where to bring her on their date.

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

Lance furrows his brows as he crosses his arms over his chest. _I give up._ Lance has always prided himself on being able to make friends pretty easily. Been able to appeal to others easily. But this kid, he just can’t get a read on him. He’s tried starting up conversations in class. Tried sending him paper airplanes. Tried inviting him to come join kickball at recess. Offered him one of his Reese’s pieces during lunch. Still no response. Keith wouldn’t even look at him. It’s as if Keith is an alien that doesn't understand human interaction. And what’s more frustrating? Keith seems to be pretty cool. Despite being one of the smallest in class, he was easily one of the fastest in the relay race they had a few days ago. He likes superheroes. At least Lance assumes he does from Keith’s Batman backpack and after he caught a glimpse of Keith doodles during arts and crafts time. However, Keith is always alone and it seemed by choice. _Does Keith just hate him for some reason?_ Whatever, if Keith doesn’t want to be his friend he couldn’t care less.

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

“Hey dumb-dumb, did you hear what I said?” 

“I’m not dumb!” Lance retaliates as he rubs his nose.

“Just because you have the new DS doesn’t mean Natalie likes you.”

All of a sudden, Lance is knocked to the ground by a harsh shove from Jamie.

“I just asked her if she wanted to play Pokemon with me.”

“Sure you did, but she’s mine so stop talking to her.”

Lance isn’t sure why Jamie is mad at him for talking to Natalie, or why Tyler and Ben join Jamie instead of telling Ms Lewis or helping him. Just a moment ago he thought these boys were his friends. Suddenly, Lance feels the stinging of sand in his eyes. He can’t really see the three boys ganged up in front of him very well but he could still hear Jamie.

“Stay away from her!” Jamie threatens as his left leg kicks towards Lance. Lance braces himself, arms crossed, hands shielding his face. But the blow never comes.

“St..stop that!” someone stuttered from further ahead.

Lance can’t place the voice. It is unfamiliar but it’s possible he’s heard it before.

“Oh yeah weirdo? Why?” 

“Leave him alone.” the voice responds, still stuttering but more assertive this time.

Lance finally looks up, turning towards the direction of his mystery defender. Rubbing sand from his eyes makes out a small figure with a head of dark hair, standing a few meters away. _Is that...Keith?!_ It takes a few seconds for his mind to catch up to what he was seeing. _It’s Keith!_ He’s not sure why Keith is intervening but he’s grateful anyhow.

“You gonna do somethin’ about it weirdo?” 

Keith only scowls as Jamie walks cockily towards him while Tyler and Ben continue to hover over Lance. Now Lance is worried because Keith is significantly smaller than Jamie, and he might get blamed for involving Keith if he ends up getting hurt too. His parents might kill him( hypothetically) if he gets blamed for someone else getting hurt.

“Weirdos should know their place.” Jamie taunts as he steps forward, looking ready to throw a punch at Keith.

Lance almost looks away but he’s glad he didn’t because he can’t believe what he sees. It was almost like a scene from an anime or action film. Just before Jamie’s fist can land on Keith’s nose, Keith ducks his head and sweeps his right leg under Jamie’s left. Jamie falls backward, landing hard on his bottom, letting out a short yelp. Everyone appears taken aback except for Keith, who lets the tiniest curl form upward along the left side of his mouth. Jamie is growing a faint shade of red.

“You?!...you’re both stupid!” Jamie stammers, finding his footing again and looking to Tyler and Ben. “Let’s go.”

The trio leave and Lance lets out a sigh of relief. Keith approaches Lance nervously. His eyes looking away sheepishly as he offers Lance a hand.

“Thanks,” huffs Lance as Keith helps him to his feet.

“Mhmm,” the scruffy boy grunts.

“But I mean I thought you hate me so why did you...?” 

“Those guys were being mean...and I don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Hate you,” Keith murmurs into his sleeve.

“Then why did you ignore me in class?”

“No talking in class. You’re annoying. It’s distracting.”

“I offered you a Reese's cup at lunch!”

“Allergic.”

“What about kickball?”

“Not my thing.”

At this point Lance didn’t know what to think. Did this kid want to be his friend or not? On one hand he did say he didn’t hate him but on the other, he could hardly keep up conversation. He feels like a drill sergeant demanding answers from the rebel kid in the line up.

“What is **your thing** then?”

“My ummm” Keith hesitates, then his voice quiets but there’s also a change in tone, “I like to draw.”

“Cool.” Lance wasn’t a big artist himself but he could appreciate it. He liked doing stuff with his hands but couldn’t really picture himself spending hours on end with just a pencil and blank paper. There had to be some common ground between them. “What about games?”, he proposed.

Keith raised an eyebrow as if needing more clarification to the question.

“You must like some kind of games. You know sports. Board games. Video games.”

“Uhh yeah, I like video games.”

 _Thank goodness._ Not to say that Lance wasn’t glad to hear that answer. He assumes that most kids around their age would have said the same. He was just more just relieved that Keith is now sounding more genuine with his answers as opposed to the obligatory tone he used earlier. Nevertheless, a potential gaming buddy wouldn’t hurt either. “What’s your favourite?” Lance decides to prod further.

“Don’t know. I don’t get to play that often.” 

“We should play.”

Keith stares at him blankly as if he didn’t quite grasp Lance’s proposal.

“I mean you should play with me. I have some at home.”

Despite being partially hidden behind his short, dark bangs, Lance still couldn’t help but note how Keith's violet eyes seemed to have lit up, just a little. “Really?” he questioned shyly.

“Yeah. I mean I’ve got some skills but no one to play with anymore.” Lance used to play with his brothers but now that they were in high school, they were a lot busier and seemed to be more interested in other things. 

“So do you wanna?”

After a brief moment Keith finally replies, his voice still small, “Ok.”

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

Keith glances down at his phone on the coffee table to check the time. _Getting late. Should go to bed._ As he is about to sit up, he hears the front door unlock. It creaks loudly as it swings open. Lance shuffles in and from the sound of it, he’s not quite sober. He’s muttering to himself aloud.

“Hey Lance.” Keith says, peering from over the couch.

Startled, Lance almost trips backwards. “Oh hey! Didn’t see you there. Thought you’d be asleep by now.” 

“Was about to. You ok?” Something must be bothering Lance, if not he would undoubtedly be raving to Keith right now about how stupendously the date went without any prompting. He is still sporting an evident flush but he’s not staggering or slurring his words.

“Ye...yeah...I’m good.” Lance tosses his blazer haphazardly over one of the wall hooks by the entrance.

Keith sits up and gets off the couch. He walks to the kitchen and removes two tall glasses from the cabinet over the sink. “You sure?” 

“Yeah, totally.” Lance replies from the living room. Keith isn’t convinced. 

“How was your date?” he asks while pouring water into the two glasses.

“Good, good...I think. I’m not sure man.” There’s an evident switch in Lance’s tone from defensive to dubious that reverberates from the living room.

He returns to the living room and hands a glass to Lance, who has collapsed onto one of the dining chairs. “Thanks.” 

He gives Lance a questioning look, his head cocked to the side, one eyebrow raised and one arm loosely crosses his chest while the other holds the glass of water. Lance gets the message. 

“I mean we kissed. That’s a win right?”

He lowers his one eyebrow.

“And she initiated second base” he pauses, gulping down some water before sloppily slamming the glass down on the table. “But...” Lance’s look of conflict deepens as he lets his head hang over the edge of the chair, his face towards the ceiling.

“But?”

“That was only after the third drink. And she talked about herself the whole time. It was hard to have a conversation.”

“Mhmm.”

He snaps his head back and looks straight at Keith, “And when I brought up _Titanic_ , she said it was meh. I mean who doesn’t like _Titanic_?!”

Keith fights the urge to chuckle. Not that he disagrees with Lance that _Titanic_ is a pretty good film. However, that doesn’t negate that he finds it almost laughable how it is so in character for Lance to use a person’s opinion of that film as a means to evaluate romantic compatibility.

“Really?” he exaggerates but Lance is too caught up in his thoughts to notice.

“I know right? How is a beautifully tragic love story, amazing cinematography and Celine Dione tugging at your heartstrings just meh?!” There’s a short pause as he chugs the rest of his water. Then his voice goes shrill. “And she thinks _Jaws_ was stupid!” 

“I don’t know man,” Lance’s eyes are now fixed on the home screen of his locked phone, “and she just sent me a text saying she had fun and would like to do it again. But I don’t know.”

“Did you?” he deadpans, watching for Lance’s response.

“Huh?”

“Have fun?”

“The kissing was great,” he takes a deep breath, “but I’m not so sure about the rest of it.” Indecision rings in his admission while his hand scratches nervously behind his head. All of a sudden, he whips his head up and his eyes are back on Keith. “What do you think?”

“She kinda sounds like a freeloader.” With everything Lance has told him it seemed self-explanatory. Whether or not that bothered Lance was not up to him.

“But she’s so haaaawwt.” Lance groans through his palms.

“I mean if hot outweighs the not having fun outside running the bases, you could go for it. I wouldn’t.”

“Nah, you definitely would” Lance slyly counters.

“No, you're right” Keith gives up his battle to maintain his neutral expression and chuckles into his hand, because Lance is right, he would. “But I’m not you.”

“No, no you’re not.” Lance sends him an appreciative smile. “Thanks man.”

“No problem.” He sits up and turns to head to his room, “Night Lance” lifting a hand to wave.

“G’night Mullet” he hears from behind him.

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

_Does this boy ever stop talking?_ They’ve been walking for nearly fifteen minutes now and Lance has just been going on about Pokemon the whole time. His favourites. How he thinks Mystic is superior. His preferences amongst the different generations. He lost Keith after Sapphire. 

Over the last few days, he’s found out a few new things about Lance as well as confirmed some of his suspicions. First and foremost, Lance is loud and talkative, and revels in any attention he receives as a result of it. It can be annoying at times but Keith figures it’s one of those behaviours you might develop if you ever have siblings that talk over you. Lance did mention having siblings. Second, Lance likes games and is possibly just as competitive as Keith. Lance is usually the one to initiate and Keith rarely backs down from a challenge. Thus, they’ve already gone head-to-head multiple times, from races to scoring goals in soccer. Keith has a feeling he’s a tad faster than Lance but Lance’s ganglier limbs keeps him on his toes. Lastly, Lance likes adventure. He keeps going on about the Deep Ocean and the endless possibilities with superpowers. Sometimes his ideas are actually pretty interesting and Keith can stay engaged, other times he just lets Lance rant.

“Oh, my place is just around the block.”

A few steps later, Keith’s jaw drops. “Wow, your house is big.” He manages to squeeze out before quickly trying to wipe any ounce of awe from his face.

“I guess,” Lance responds casually, “I mean it needs to be big since there’s a bunch of us right?”

“A bunch?” he inquires. He wonders how many a bunch meant in reality.

As if reading Keith’s mind, “Seven actually,” Lance says cheerfully. “I have like four older siblings, two big sisters and two big brothers, and sometimes we argue a lot, so there needs to be places where we can have alone time, but we love each other.” 

Lance’s house was by no means a movie star's mansion but it was sizable, easily housing four or five bedrooms. It was huge compared to the basement apartment Keith and his father shared. It was rather hard for Keith to believe such nice houses existed in this neighborhood, since it happened to be that he and Lance lived only a ten minute drive from each other. This must be what adults meant by zip codes matter. One could tell by the well-kept, lavish refurbishings that whoever owned this home had their pockets filled and more to spare. The hedges in the front yard were trimmed to precision and the lawn was a lush green. 

Lance points to the garage, where there sat two cars, with an empty spot that could easily fit another. “That’s my Mama’s car but she hardly uses it except for sending us to swimming and sports practice, and when we go grocery shopping once a week. And that’s Luis’s, he just turned seventeen last month so Papi bought that for his birthday.” 

They walk around the small fountain that adorned the base of the steps leading to the front entrance. Lance announces his arrival as they close the front door behind them, “Mama, I’m home! I brought my friend Keef! We’re gonna play Mario Kart!”

A warm voice echoes from another room, “Welcome home _Mijo_. Are you hungry? Would you like some snacks for you and your friend?”

Lance looks to Keith as if to gage answer. Disinclined to dump an unnecessary mouthful on Lance about his long list of allergies, Keith simply tilts his head in response.

“Maybe later Mama!” Lance yells down the hall.

“Ok, let me know if you need anything.”

“Yes Mama!”

They climb a tall flight of stairs and make their way down to the end of the corridor. Lance’s room was evidently more decorated than Keith’s but not in a way that said, _my family can afford to get me anything I want_ , but more so an ode to Lance’s interests, with posters of Pokemon, Star Wars, Comic Book Superheroes, and deep sea creatures strewn across the walls. After dropping their bags by the door, they situated themselves on the two beanbags by the edge of the fuzzy carpet in the center of the room. 

“Here!” Lance tosses Keith a controller. He’s grinning brashly from ear to ear. “Ready to get you _burro_ beat?” 

“You’re on.” 

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

[ _Beep. Beep. Beep_.]

Lance slams his hand on his phone alarm, knocking it off the nightstand. He just wants to curl back into a ball and continue sleeping. Call in sick. But he shouldn’t because honestly, his hangover isn’t that bad. He’s not nauseous or dizzy. His body feels fine for the most part except for the light pulsing in his head. He plucks his phone off the ground and sluggishly drags himself to the bathroom. There’s a text notification from his bank that he made a purchase of over $250 last night. _It wasn’t bad. Could have been worse_. He rereads the text from Nyma.

**> > Nubile_Nymph(Nyma W.)**

[ Hey there handsome, I had so much fun. Let's do it again soon! ]

Lance inhales deep and tries to gather his thoughts. He recollects his semi-tipsy conversation with Keith.

[ I had fun too and you’re a real catch, but unfortunately just not my catch. ]

< Message Sent >

Lance smirks to himself. _Smooth Sharpshooter, smooth._

He goes about his morning beauty routine as per normal. Face wash. Hot towel. Toner. Serum. Moisturizer. He is in the middle of applying concealer to his under eyes, humming to himself in the mirror, “Baby, Whether I'm high or low”, when he spots something black and hairy dash pass over his head, out from the fringe of his periphery. His eyes widen with terror. He freezes in place, dropping his makeup sponge in the sink.

“Keeeffff....KEEEEEFFF!!!” His scream pierces the morning silence in the apartment.

There’s a loud thump from across the hall and subsequently a series of heavy footsteps accompanied by incohesive grumbling.

“What the hell Lance?! Is something on fire?” he hears Keith bark from the other side of the door.

“KEEF! KEEITH! COME IN HERE AND HELLLP MEE!”

“Stop screaming dammit! I don’t want another noise complaint!” A disgruntled Keith bursts through the door, still in his nightshirt and boxer briefs, his hair an unruly mop.

“Oh _Dios_ Keith. It’s just watching me, waiting for me to--” He stops mid-sentence, jolting his arm up, pointing towards the ceiling corner on his left. “THERE. Up there!!”

“Seriously Lance? Again?” Keith mouths through a yawn, rubbing one of his eyes.

“I swear they’ve got a colony agenda against me.”

Keith looks up to where Lance is pointing and snatches the aerosol disinfectant spray and a worn out magazine from under the bathroom sink. He holds out the bottle and sprays it once before rolling up the magazine, and---

[ **WHACK!** ] 

Finally he can breathe again. “ _¡Gracias al cielo!_ Keith” he exhales audibly, hunching over with one hand on his chest.

“Spiders don’t live in colonies, Lance.” Keith grunts, crouching down and placing the disinfectant and magazine back underneath the sink.

“Why can’t you just accept my thanks, smartass.”

He waits on a witty comeback but Keith is already trudging out the bathroom, head hung and grumbling resumed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit more about the format and what to expect:
> 
> \- Words in Italics are either in words Spanish or a character’s inner thoughts. Italics within “ ” refer to background music or dialogue.  
> \- Words in bold are to put emphasis or note a change in tone of speaking.  
> \- [ ] refer to background noises or text messages.  
> \- Expect VLD, movie, music, and other pop culture references :) Comment if you spot them  
> \- 1st fun facts: Normally Keith works 12-hour shifts. Lance has a hype playlist for self-confidence boost/motivation
> 
> Chapter Songs:  
> \- [Tightrope(Janelle Monae ft Big Boi)  
>  \- ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pwnefUaKCbc)[Me Too(Meghan Trainor)  
>  \- ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeCaCqceTMY)[Nobody Really Cares If You Don’t Go to the Party(Courtney Barnett)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ZOGlFdReMM)  
> ** Please be courteous in the comments. Alright, let’s get this show on the road.**


	2. Don't Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Younger Keith and Lance deserve hugs. Strangers give adult Keith and Lance some special attention.
> 
> **Minor character death warning!** in this chapter
> 
> “All I want is to see you smile, If it takes just a little while” (Don’t Stop - Fleetwood Mac)

Keith had been called a lone wolf on more than one occasion in his life. It wasn’t a title he would deny as since a child, he has found it difficult to reach out to others. This made him eternally grateful for the few friends he did have now, even considering them ‘his pack’ to fit the analogy. However, if there was one thing Keith knew well, it was that loneliness and being alone were two different things. Keith could be in a room filled with people, people he knew, and still feel lonely. At the same time, he could also find himself feeling perfectly connected to the world when he was all by himself on some secluded overlook point in the city, counting the stars shining above him in the night sky. Still, there were sometimes when the two did correlate, and it had always taken a hand reaching out to him to part the cloudy grey area in between. A hand he trusted. A pair of eyes that pierced through his walls. A smile that let him know loneliness was only temporary. A voice that reminded him that some burdens need not be carried solo.

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

Ever since watching the first Stars Wars movie when he was five, Lance had always thought the idea of being a space ranger would be pretty cool. Getting to explore far off places and meet strange, other-worldly beings. Pilot a lightspeed ship and use fancy alien tech weapons. Be a defender of the universe from any evil invading forces. It was like those classic fairy tales but only made better by the wonders of Space. His only conundrum? As fun as his made-up mercenary adventures could be, Space seemed cold without someone to defend it with. He wanted to be Han but he didn’t want to do it solo. 

But now he wouldn’t have to. He had Keith.

Lounging in his bedroom, they were supposed to be working on their bring-back-home science project. Somehow along the way, the conversation had been steered from whether or not magnets work in space, to if it were possible could build a giant magnet the size of a spaceship to repel invading alien spaceships, to now a debate on what would be the best combat weapon when fighting in space.

Lance justified his stance. “Nuh uh. Swords are only good for like medieval fighting, when you’re dueling a dragon or evil wizard or something. Lazers are clearly the superior option in space.”

Keith countered. “Then what about the Jedi? I mean lightsabers are just lazer swords.”

“Like I said, lazers are the best.” He’d had this discussion with Marco previously, he knew his case was sound.

“But lightsabers **are dueling** weapons.” his friend quiped from the beanbag. _Darn it, Keith had a point._

“Lightsabers are cool but”, stalling, he shoots finger guns towards Keith. “POW! POW!”

“What was that noise?” his friend questions, unamused.

“Lazer guns,” he answers with debonair. “They are obviously better since you can shoot from far or near. You can’t hit someone with a lightsaber from thirty feet away without throwing it, and if you do you don’t have a weapon anymore.”

“Not if you use the force to wield it back.”

“But not everyone can use the force.”

“I bet I could.” Keith remarks freely. 

“I bet I could do it better!” He declares, lunging at his friend with a recorder in his hand. Keith, with lightning quick reflexes as always, is able to dodge him at the last second, grabbing his own weapon in the form of a foot-long ruler.

The next thing he knew, he was in the middle of a faux force fight with Keith, make-believe lightsabers, force shields and all. After a stalemate on the carpet, he jumps onto his bed for the advantage of higher ground while Keith decks behind his desk chair. Catching their breath, they hover, each waiting for the other to make the next move. Keith is the one to step first, dashing from behind the chair and pouncing straight up for Lance. Seizing his opportunity, Lance swings his weapon down, aimed at his opponent’s shoulder. Just as his saber is supposed to make contact, Keith crouches to the side, causing Lance to lose his footing as the momentum of his swing pulls him forward.

Luckily he lands on a beanbag, cushioning what might have been a potentially bad fall. Groaning, he looks up, only to find Ketih smirking as he points the ruler straight at Lance, the edge inches away from his throat. 

“I’ll get you next time Samurai.” he huffs playfully as Keith lowers his weapon and presents his hand to Lance. The moment he takes it, he pulls Keith down with him and they tumble onto the floor together in a fit of squirming and giggles.

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

Lance needs to be packed by tonight. He has to be out of the door by 6am tomorrow. An array of clothing items is sprawled across the living room floor. Indecisiveness irks at his temples.

“Do you think I’ll need my oxfords or will my derbys do?” he raises his voice to ask aloud. Another opinion never hurt when you couldn’t make up your mind.

“Aren’t they like the same thing?” says a nonchalant voice from the couch.

“Uhh, no.” he corrects them with certainty while stuffing his black derbies into his shoe bag. It’s as if Keith’s lacking knowledge in fashion terminology boosted his own confidence in his attire choices.

“You’ll only be gone like three days right?” says the head of dark hair, face still hidden behind a book. 

“Yeah.”

“Then what's with the big suitcase?”

“You can never be too prepared Mullet,” he replies with affirmation, mostly for himself. 

He scans his partially packed suitcase, making a mental note of what was there and what was still missing. He had all his essentials but that didn’t stop his nerves from starting to fray. He needed to be prepared. He couldn’t afford to mess up. Not when Allura was finally giving him this chance. Before he knew it, he was babbling his inner monologue aloud. “Allura is trusting me to be the rep for Altea Alliances. I need to be my best. And to be my best, I gotta look and feel my best. I can’t do that without my routine and wardrobe. Plus, this’ll be my first solo company trip. I can’t mess this up. I can’t screw things up for Allura and the rest of us. I can’t--”

He is interrupted by a reassuring press of a palm on his shoulder. 

“It’ll be fine Lance.” Keith says from beside him, his voice calm and hearten.

“But what if I accidentally--” he breathes, his anxiety stilled but niggling like faint scratching on a door from a persistent feline trying to break in.

“You’ll be fine.” Keith cuts him off again, his voice still unwavering. “You said it yourself, Allura trusts you and that means she believes you’re capable of handling everything on your own.” He pauses long enough for Lance to turn to his side. “I do too.”

For a guy whose default demeanor emanates aloof and unconcerning, it may come as a surprise to some that Keith can be a very capable counselor when he chooses to. He’s not warm like Hunk, or divertive like Pidge, or sympathetic like Allura. Keith is more direct yet subtle. He is grounding. Steadying, like a ship's invisible anchor in a storm, he keeps Lance from being swept by the erratic winds of apprehension.

“Thanks.” And Lance means it, knowing that Keith is sparing with moments like these. “Too bad you can’t come with me as my hype man.”

“You’ll manage.” Just like that, Keith’s sarcasm has returned, and they’re back to banter and jesting.

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

“I don’t understand. Where’s my dad?” His voice quivers as panic and confusion flood his senses. He could see their mouths moving, hear their voices but none of their words would process. It was as if a jolt of lightning had struck his system, paralyzing him with an inability to think or feel. There, he stood numb to his surrounding and his own inner state of being. Helpless to move, trapped within the stillness of his mind. What might have been minutes seemed like an eternity until he could register someone calling his name. 

“I’m sorry Keith but he’s gone.” says a voice laden with remorse. 

“What do you mean he’s gone?! Gone where?!” his own voice strained with affliction. At the back of mind, in the confines of his deepest fears, he knows what they mean. However, his heart will not have it, it refuses to succumb to such a thought.

“Keith. He loved you very much.” another voice offers in consolation.

“No...no, no. It’s not true!” yells back in denial, his words laced with anguish. He’s desperate to defy their claims. Cling to any ounce of hope that this is all a terrible dream.

“I’m sorry Keith. I’m so, so sorry.” They say it again and again, as if incapable of saying anything else.

He feels pressure building within his chest. Despair etching at his inner walls. It's growing, morphing like waves of a tsunami shoaling, from something weak and brief to something more imposing and lingering. Then, the final waves hits him. It crashes onto him, smashing the wall of glass that divided his reality from the world around him. 

Just like that he was gone. His dad was gone. Keith would never get to watch _Revenge of the Sith_ with his dad. He would never get to go camping in Yosemite with dad. His dad would never finish teaching how to build that motorcycle. His dad was gone and he wasn’t coming back. Now it was just him. Alone. Alone in his room. Alone with his feelings, his pain and no idea what to do with them. So Keith did the only thing he knew how whenever he was alone and afraid. He locked the door, wrapped himself with bedsheets, curled himself into a tight ball and sang _their_ song. The song his dad would blast in the car, windows rolled down as they belted out the chorus together. The song they’d danced carefree to together when it was just him and his dad on a Saturday night, waiting for the pasta sauce to finish cooking. The song his dad hummed to him when a thunderstorm was raging outside their window and the power was out. _Their song._

“ _Don't stop thinking about tomorrow. Don't stop, it'll soon be here. It'll be, better than before. Yesterday's gone, yesterday's gone_.”

He sang it over, and over, and over again. Until his head hurt so much from bawling. Until his sheets were damp from tears and snot. Until his voice went hoarse and there were no more tears left to cry. Until he was too tired to keep awake and slumber overtook his senses. 

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

****

_[ Medical Assist - Fall Victim_

_Male. 77. Caucasian._

_Incident: Roadside fall. Victim was walking his dog on a leash when the canine bolted without warning while crossing the road. Victim landed front-first against the edge of pedestrian pavement. ]_

****

Keith inspects the fall victim as Regris talks to the 911 caller-witness. The elder gentleman, Mr. Watson, doesn’t present any critical symptoms but he does have some minor scrapes on his knees and elbows as well as a possible wrist fracture. He keeps insisting that he needs to bring his dog with him but Keith is leaving that conversation to Regris to handle. _Why do old people not understand walking an easily excitable dog by themselves is a bad idea?_ Nevermind, right now his focus is on helping Mr. Watson calm down enough so that his blood pressure doesn’t spike further and he can properly assist him onto the gurney. 

He has just begun loading Mr. Watson into the back of the vehicle when he sees the witness walking towards his direction. Let’s just say if Keith wasn’t on duty right now, he’d be paying more special attention to the man. He’s probably a bit older than himself, possibly around Shiro’s age. Sweat sticks his dirty blonde curls to his lightly tanned forehead. His broad shoulders are well framed by a white athletic tank top. He must work out regularly because his toned glutes are clearly visible in those black running shorts. _No Keith, now is not the time for those kinds of thoughts._ He quickly turns his attention back to Mr. Watson.

“Thank you again for the help.” says the friendly figure.

For a second, Keith turns to address the robust stranger. “Of course. Thank you for calling,” he replies, keeping his cool. And then the stranger smiles and winks. _What the...NOPE, not now Kogane._ Before he can allow himself to get distracted again, his eyes are back on Mr. Watson and he shuts the back door, and they are on their way. 

* * *

**_2nd Grade_ **

Keith doesn’t come to school on Monday and Lance wonders if his friend is alright. He doesn’t show on Tuesday either and Lance is getting worried. He tried asking Ms. Lewis but she just said Keith wasn't feeling well. He knows his friend was probably just sick with a cold and Lance would get to see his friend soon enough. Waiting is making him restless though and he can’t seem to shake this growing unsettling feeling. Even his family catches on. His mother gives him an extra helping of potatoes during dinner. Rachel offers to show him how to do a fishtail braid. Even Luis, who is busy with football practice, asks him if he’d like to go to the arcade tomorrow after school. He feels guilty for worrying his family but something just isn’t sitting right with him and he doesn’t know what.

Despite their age gap of a decade between the youngest, Lance, and the oldest, Luis, the three McClain brothers were relatively close. Luis was the one to teach Marco and him how to ride a bicycle, Marco was always coming up with new ways to prank their sisters, and Lance never stopped bugging his brothers to bring him on new “big boy adventures.” So it goes without saying that the arcade was a good distraction since Lance feels like it’s been forever since it was just his brothers and him. The arcade is small so the boys easily wizz through all their favourite games. After two hours of skee-ball, pinball, Pac-man, failed attempts at DDR and some success at VR sniper games, the three of them make their way to the redemption counter. As the enervated attendant counts their four cups overflowing with tokens, Lance eagerly glosses over the shelves of potential prizes. He feels a nudge to his left shoulder and like the truly generous older brother he knows and loves, Luis wears a smile that signals to Lance that he is free to choose whatever he pleases. He is about to point to the neon blue shark with sunglasses sitting right behind the counter when spots a purple hippo with a red ribbon around its neck a few paces to the side.

“Are you sure you want that one and not the shark?” Marco asks him for the third time.

“Yup, that one.” Lance chirps with surety.

“Ok. Yes, the hippo please.” Luis requests from the attendant.

They leave with a couple of emblem keychains, a handful of candy and the stuffed animal. He hums cheerfully while carrying the guinea pig-sized plusie. _I’ll give this to him tomorrow._

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

It’s Friday and still no sign of Keith. It’s been a full week since Lance last saw him and he is on the edge of running all the way to Keith’s house and breaking down the door since no one seems to be able to tell him what's going on. He has asked teachers. His other classmates. All of them either had no clue or didn’t want to share what they knew. What happened to his friend? Was he in trouble? Was he hurt? If he was, was there a way Lance could help? 

After a week of increasingly frequent pestering, Ms. Lewis finally caves. “Don’t worry Keith is fine but I’m afraid he won’t be coming to school anymore.” she says in hushed tones, as if guarding some other secret that Lance isn’t supposed to know about.

“But why?” Lance pleads for a more elaborate explanation.

“I’m sorry but I can’t tell you why.” She stops to take a breath and her eyebrows unknit, “But maybe Keith can.”

As fate would have it, his mother is fetching Rachel from tennis practice today and Keith’s house is on the way. He begs her to drive him there and let him have fifteen minutes, just enough to see Keith and ask him if everything was alright. He gives her his best puppy dog eyes and pout, refusing to leave her side until she agrees. It takes close to half an hour till she surrenders. 

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

Now that he thought about it, Lance had never been inside Keith’s house. He has passed by it twice before, both times when his mother offered to drop Keith off after hanging out at his place until the sun was already setting. Keith said it was because Lance’s house was more fun, and that might have been the case. He didn’t push it though because he could sense his friends' resistance the few times he had brought up the idea.

As they near the driveway, Lance spots a pair of adults chatting on the front porch. An older woman dressed in a long sleeved coral dress, sits in the straw armchair as she converses with a middle aged man, in a dark grey button down and matching flannel pants, leaning lackadaisically against the porch railing.

“Ten minutes _Mijo_. We need to pick up your sister.” His mother tells him from the driver's seat up front.

“Yes Mama.” he obliges as he shuts the car door.

With Lila under his arm, Lance struts up to the front door. As he nears the two adults, he notes the weariness in their expressions, shadows of somberness looms over their exchange. Their conversation halts the moment they see Lance approaching, the woman smiles as the man looks on curiously. Agitated by his uncertainty of how to proceed, Lance simply stands there, waiting for a cue that his presence is welcome. It comes a few seconds later, when the woman breaks the silence. “Hello young man, can we help you with something?”, her voice is as sincere as her smile.

“Sorry but is Keef home?” 

“Yes, he is.” His heart beats in excitement and relief. “Are you a friend?”

“Yes, I’m Lance, his awesomest friend.” he declares with an air of self-confidence. “Can I see him? He hasn’t been at school all week and I just wanna talk to him.”

“I think he’s taking a shower right now but he should be out soon.”

“Aww shucks, I don’t think I can stay long.” he swallows his disappointment. Lady luck was just not on his side today.

“Can we can pass him a message?” the man suggests, then promptly opens the door, as if to go and retrieve something from inside. 

With the front door more than half open, Lance can’t help but notice the mess of storage boxes of belongings scattered near the entrance. A dreadful thought hit him. _No...he can’t leave._ But he doesn’t get the chance to panic over the possibility of Keith moving, because the man is back again, with a pen and empty greeting card in his hands.

“Here,” passing Lance the pen and card.

“Thanks.”

 _What should I write?_ He scribbles on the card. There’s more he wanted to say, to ask but he was pressed for time. For now, at least he could leave his friend a few words of comfort. Perhaps the next time he visited, they’d actually get to catch up. 

“ _Mijo_ , time to go!” he hears his mother call from the car.

“Coming!”

He is about to step off the porch before he realizes he still has something soft under his arm. He swoops back around and extends his arm, offering Lila to the woman, “Oh, and can you give him this please?”

“Of course. We’ll make sure he gets it.” 

“Thank you!” he hollers, dashing back to the vehicle. 

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

His feet drag heavily as he ascends the stairs, the weight of each step a reminder of his new reality. He ignores the chatter from company in the dining area, friends and colleagues of his father’s who have volunteered to help. It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate their kindness, he just can’t handle interacting with this many strangers right now. Yet, the universe has other plans because someone has spotted him. It’s Gabby, a family friend of his father.

“Oh, Keith.” She waves for him to come over.

“Yes, Gabby?”

“Your friend came by while you were in the shower.”

 _Friend?_ He sends her a puzzled look.

“He wanted to say hello and give you this.” 

In her hands there’s a purple soft animal. She passes it to him and he flips it over. It’s a hippo! _But who would know?_ Then he notices the card attached to the candy apple bow tied around its neck. Curious to know its sender, he opens the card to read.

_Hi Keeth,_

_I heard you were sick. I hope you’re feeling better. Maybe Lila, and yes that's her name because she’s a lilac hippo, here can play with you until we can hangout again. See you soon!_

_Your most awesomest friend,_

_Lance :)_

  
And for the first time in a week, Keith smiled.

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

In all honesty, the conference had gone both better and worse than Lance expected. On the plus side, he got the chance to interact with some of the most prominent influencers in the industry as well as gained inspiration on how he could improve Altea’s media presence. On the down side, the majority of sessions had become a blur after the listening to the first two or three, and not to mention having to navigate through the crowd of overly bland yet obnoxious personalities that were all too common in his field. Thus, after nearly three days of non-stop exhibitions, sessions and networking, Lance felt pretty drained and actually couldn’t wait for this conference to come to a close.

It’s two hours into the closing dinner and he is in the midst of a half-hearted conversation with the PerchMeyer marketing rep, sipping his second glass of Merlot for the evening, when a stunning figure catches his eye from across the room. Her auburn curls are pinned up into a neat bun as a few fall gracefully against her exposed shoulders, magnificently contrasting with her fitted forest cocktail dress. 

“Ah, the Navita rep.” his acquaintance warns in good cheer, “Don’t let that pretty smile fool you, she’s a feisty one.”

“Huh?”

“Just sayin, there’s a reason she’s the only woman on that team.” 

“Ah…” 

“Anyways it’s been great chatting with you. I’m looking forward to seeing what Altea has in store.” His eyes dart away for a tick, and his laugh goes from chipper to teasing. “Ooo, looks like she saw you. Good Luck!” and he pats Lance once on the shoulder on his way out.

He watches the beauty in green make her way across to him. He gets weaker at the knees with every step she takes. It’s all but a minute till she’s standing there a few feet away from him.

“I didn’t just interrupt something did I?” A pair of peridot eyes meet his, then dropped down to his lanyard, “Mr. McClain.”

“Not at all.” he manages with some suave, his voice not nearly as shaky as his legs. “And just Lance is fine.”

She flashes him a small smile and there’s an immediate fluttering in his chest. “Well then just Lance, I’m Patricia, Manager at Navita Capital. Nice to meet you.”

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps this conference was ending too soon.

* * *

**_6th Grade_ **

“I’m back.” Keith announces as he walks through the front door and removes his shoes.

“Welcome back Keith. Are you hungry? I just bought bread if you want to make yourself a sandwich.” a bubbly figure responds, shuffling about the kitchen.

“No thanks Mrs. Shirogane, I’m alright.” 

“I told you, call me Hana dear, Mrs. Shirogane is my mother-in-law. Did Takashi show you where we keep our art stuffs? It should be in a box somewhere around.” 

“Not yet. I don't think I’ve seen him today.”

“He must still be at practice. I’ll remind him to show you once he gets back.”

“Ok, thank you. I'll be upstairs.”

Keith had only been with the Shiroganes for less than a month now but he could already tell they were good folk. They were a bit older than his previous foster parents and more conservative in some ways, but overall very warm and friendly. In the short time he had been with them, Mrs. Shirogane had already expressed curiosity about Keith’s favourite dishes and hobbies. Mr. and Mrs. Shirogane had been foster parents for nearly eight years now and had two kids of their own, one of whom had passed away and another who had just graduated from high school. This was also the first time in four years he would have a room to himself, something Keith never thought he would ever have until he went to college or got his own place as an adult.

A few hours later, there’s a soft knock on his door.

“Come in.”

“Hi Keith.” 

He pops his head around to see a tuft of dark hair peeking through the door, “Oh, hi Takashi” but quickly returns his attention back on his math assignment.

“Whatcha up to?” the older boy asks upon entering the room.

“Just homework.” 

“Ma told me to hand you these.” 

There’s a thud gentle on the desk space next to him. Glancing over, his eyes light up at the sight of the small box of sketching supplies. “Oh, thank you.” He can feel himself beaming as he takes the box.

“I’m glad someone will finally make good use of them.”

He’s still distracted, looking over the box of supplies when he hears his foster brother again.

“Hey Keith.” He sounds slightly ambivalent.

“Yeah?”

“I know we don’t know each other super well yet but can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to or don’t know.”

He senses no aggression, more so reservation, like he wants to say something but he’s not sure if he has the right to. Takashi has been kind to him so far so he doesn’t have a reason to object.

“Umm. Sure, I guess.”

“Your last name is Kogane right? Like that’s your dad’s name right?” 

“Mhmm.” he nods.

“Did your dad’s first name happen to be John?” He blinks a few times at the sound of his father’s name. _How did he know that?_ It must have been in his files or something.

“Umm, yeah.”

“Was he a firefighter by chance?” 

This time, he definitely jumps in his own skin. “Yes, he was but again, how did you...?” 

“Holy crow, oh wow. Umm. This may be crazy but I think I might have known him.”

“How?” he presses on, perplexed. 

The older boy sighs, “It’s a long time ago but…”

Takashi spends the next hour telling Keith how he had met his father when John had saved him during a wildfire incident. Only ten at the time, he had been camping with his friends for the weekend and when their campsite was suddenly surrounded by flames in the middle of the night. He called for others but only heard indecipherable shouts beyond the flames. With his tentmate passed out beside him, He was terrified and panicked all at once, unsure of what to do and unwilling to leave his friend’s side. Out of the blue, John had burst through their tent. He calmed Takashi down, assured him they would be alright, then led him out while carrying his unconscious friend. 

He admits not remembering most of the exact details of their conversation that day but was distinctively left inspired John’s bravery and kindness. He had asked John if they could be friends and they were, for a while, exchanging letters every few months. He would update John about school and later the fluster that came with starting puberty, and John would talk about work and his son.

Until one day the letters stopped, Takashi was disappointed at first but chalked it up to John being transferred to another station or something along those lines. There was a flicker of grief in his eyes as he told Keith, “I never thought...that happened.” Then, a new expression washed over him, one of sympathy, directed to Keith. “He was a good man.” he uttered with quiet affection.

“Yeah, yeah he was.” Keith responded, with equal fondness.

* * *

**_Present Day_ **

“I got it!” Lance bursts aloud, slamming his hands on the dining table. “That’s who Trish reminds me of.”

Keith takes a few seconds to rack his brain. “That's the girl you met at the conference right?”

“Yup and she totally gives me Poison Ivy vibes man. You know? Strong. Smart. Seductive.” 

“Really Lance?” His face may have displayed blasé but deep underneath, a wisp of endearment flickered for his friend. His friend who still had that same spark in his eyes after all these years, a specific spark reserved for superhero tied sentiment. 

“Hey, she works for a hedge fund that specializes in organic agriculture, it fits perfectly. Plus, had that red hair and green eyes look going.”

“Sure.” 

“Anyways, we’ve been texting and I've been thinking of how to ask her out. She seems a bit **prickly**?”

He sends Lance a pointed look, “Just don’t tell that to her and you’ll be fine.”

“Hmmph.” He frowns in indignation but it is swiftly replaced by a familiar cocky smile. “So I shouldn’t do a romantic botanical gardens date?”

Keith can’t help but groan through his palm as it hits his face. Thankfully, just as Lance looks like he’s about to spout another nerdy comic reference, he’s distracted by vibration on the table .

[ **Buzz. Buzz** ] 

The brunette grabs his phone from in front of him and Keith notices how his ocean-blue eyes widen at the sight of the text. A large grin shoots across his face. 

Keith is at a loss. “What? Did she just ask you out?”

“Even better! It’s from Roni!” he squeals with utmost excitement before shoving his phone in Keith’s face.

It’s a picture of a medium-fair skin toned hand loosely curled on upon a more tanned one, and a teardrop aquamarine gem sparkles on the ring finger of the fairer hand. Below the picture in all caps.

>> Bossy_Roni(Veronica M.)

[ SHE SAID YES! ]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End Notes:  
> \- This chapter is a lot of “setting up backstory/dynamics” so I know we didn’t get to see much of the boys together; they’ll see each other soon, I promise.  
> \- The “recorder” Lance was using as an imaginary lightsaber is the wind instrument kind(like a less complicated clarinet), not the digital device.  
> \- Lance’s mother was hesitant to bring him to Keith’s house because she knows you shouldn’t go to people’s houses uninvited, not because she doesn’t like Keith  
> \- To clarify what the other rep meant is that Patricia is the only female on a all-male hedge fund management team(aka. she’s a bad*ss)
> 
> Chapter Songs:   
> \- [Don’t Stop(Fleetwood Mac)  
>  \- ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OvSbZEYlfnM)[Welcome to the Black Parade(My Chemical Romance)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pInrJ72eeUU)  
> \- [One Call Away(Charlie Puth)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RPYumdhRMkU)


	3. You Can't Hurry Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy very belated Valentine’s Day Everyone!
> 
> All-bi-myself meet Sunshine-samoan. Knife-to-know-u meet Gadget-gremlin. Back to the sitcom that is the lives of adult Klance.
> 
> “I can't bear to live my life alone, I grow impatient for a love to call my own” (You Can’t Hurry Love - The Supremes)

Lance was six when he first watched _The Little Mermaid_. It left him puzzled, fascinated and enamoured.

Were merpeople real? He hoped they were. He wanted a tail. To be able to swim in the sea without holding his breath. Explore ancient shipwrecks. Veronica quickly shot him down. It didn’t stop him from dreaming though.

Was magic real? “Depends on what you consider magic” Luis told him with a wink.

Was true love real? His Mama said absolutely. Nevertheless, she warned him it would not be easy, and that falling in love was different from loving. Falling, as Ariel did for Eric, was the easy part. When you find yourself smitten with another, incapable of thinking they could do any wrong or held any flaws. Loving someone, truly loving another, took time and work. It was a tedious process of giving a piece of yourself to someone, with the hope that they do the same but the knowledge that you could never be fully guaranteed they would.

True love sounded hard and even a bit dangerous. He knew he wanted it and he'd get it someday, he just needed to find that special person.

* * *

**_Present_ **

It’s a standard movie night for the crew. A smorgasbord of snacks, homemade cocktails, a mishmash lineup of films, and a healthy dose of post-viewing commentary. They’ve just wrapped up watching _The Proposal_ , and while waiting on Hunk’s famous ‘BBQ n bean Nachos’ to finish in the oven, are discussing the pros, cons, ethics and feasibility of workplace romance.

Taking a sip of his blue gatorade margarita and promptly sinking back into the couch, Lance uses his current romantic relationship to back his stance. “I’m just saying if I’d never gone to that conference for work, I would’ve never met Trish.”

He doesn’t understand why some people are so opposed to the idea. If love equals happiness then why wouldn’t one want to look for it in all places? It would just mean finding more happiness sooner. 

He’s possibly a little biased since things between him and Trish have been going well. Better than he expected and better than any relationship he’s had in a while. In addition to her being a knockout, they get along great and enjoy each other’s company. Sure, she’s a bit shy when it comes to the physical stuff but that isn’t a turnoff. He’s simply happy.

There’s a quiet panic written on Hunk’s face that seeps through into his words. “Whoa, hold up buddy. Are you saying you wanna propose to Trish? She’s great and I like her and all but don’t you think that’s kinda soon?”

Unlike Hunk, there’s not a hint of alarm when Pidge adds, “I know your sister just got engaged but there’s no need to race her to the end of the aisle.” in her own snarky brand of concern. 

“No, I like her but we’re definitely not there yet.” he establishes, shaking his head before proceeding to elaborate. “What I meant was that I don’t see why some people are so against the idea of finding love at work. It’s where we spend the majority of our time as so-called adults and meet the most new people, so wouldn’t it be to their benefit to be open-minded about it since it would raise their likelihood of finding true love.”

In true quirky uncle fashion, Coran twists his moustache, joining the conversation with an offbeat quote. “My great grandpa Albert used to say that true love is like good watermelons. You can discover it anywhere but that doesn’t mean it’s yours to keep. It has to be chosen and dutifully grown.”

A bemused trio of ‘huhs’ cues Allura to offer a translation. “I think what Coran means is there are lots of other factors that can determine a successful long-term relationship besides how we meet prospective partners.”

There’s one more opinion that’s missing that Lance wishes he could hear. It would belong to his ebony-haired flatmate presently sleeping soundly beside him. Keith had gotten off his shift not an hour prior to arriving at Allura’s place for crew night, so it wasn’t unforeseen when he passed out at the beginning of the second film. 

He and Keith didn’t always see eye to eye, but that’s what made their banter fun. Why Lance valued his opinion. Keith had a unique way of providing insight that made Lance take a step back and reevaluate his position. Moreover, when they did agree, Keith would back him up until they were the last ones standing. 

With all that said, as tempting as it was, he’s decided not to wake his friend.

And like many other times, they could leave it Pidge to cast the winning blow. “I’m with Coran. If the sample size, in this case ‘exposure to possible suitors’, was the primary factor in finding love, our resident Sir-Dark-and-Brooding would be the first of us to get hitched.”

All the eyes in the room are suddenly on Keith, dead to the world, torso slouched over the sofa arm, and a chorus laughter erupts.

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

The sound of rowdy discussion stirs him from his sleep. Despite his groggy mind, he is able to piece together that his friends are having some sort of debate on finding love at work.

He leaves his eyes closed, in hopes that his friends carry on believing he’s still asleep and thus ignore him, and he can avoid being pulled into whatever this conversation was.

It’s a few minutes later when he feels Lance cracking up next to him, struggling to produce coherent speech. However what he does manage to squeeze out leaves Keith a little stunned. 

“Keith’s an outlier. He’s too probably too focused on work at work to notice if anyone hits on him.”

 _Sometimes? Probably True?_ Like his friend implied, if it was true, he wouldn’t be aware of it. He’s never been the best at social cues and it is difficult to catch these things when you are focusing on the life that’s at stake in front of you, if not at minimum the person’s mental health as they deal with a stressful situation.

“and if he did, he’s more likely to panic and shut them down before anything goes anywhere.”

That was what literally happened the other day. _How did he?_

It really shouldn’t be that surprising since they’ve known each other for years now, and he knows it’s meant to be a jab but Keith can’t help but be a little impressed. There are times he questions why and how they got to be where they were, given how different Lance and himself were. Then again, it was at times like these that Keith was thankful to have a friend that knew him that well. It was a testament to their bond. How close they were. How strongly they trusted each other. And that was something he treasured.

* * *

**_10th Grade_ **

It’s been too long since his brother last called. Under the circumstances, Keith knew it may be difficult to contact home regularly, still, three months is unusual even for Shiro. He understands that it’s probably due to poor connection or mission related restrictions but couldn’t help feeling a little antsy. It’s fed by the part of him that fears the worst. A part he tries so hard to suppress but can never fully get rid of.

He skips class more often and his grades are taking a hit. He tosses and turns at night and barely touches his favourite meals. He finds himself wandering around aimlessly. 

Then one day, he arrives home from school to find Hana wearing a look. He knows that look. It’s a foreboding look. One that brings news for the worse. He can see her mouth his brother’s name and he freezes at the movement. _No, it can’t be happening again._ His mind is racing through a thousand possibilities as he struggles to listen, only catching a few words. _Missing. Attack. Surgery._ He can hear his brother, “Patience yields focus.” Taking in a deep breath, he closes his eyes. On the exhale, he opens them once more and his hearing returns, honing in on Hana. “They said he’s under medical surveillance right now.” 

_He’s alive._

They receive a call every week. His brother is still unconscious although his vitals have all stabilized. His brother has been moved out of critical care. His brother woke up. His brother might have some memory loss. But at least...

_He’s alive._

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

Keith had always thought that his first official ride on Carmine would be a long relaxing one. A celebratory road trip seeing that it took him eight years to complete her. How wrong he was. That plan is immediately scrapped when Hana informs his brother is returning in a week and will be transferred to the Harrington Veteran’s Affairs Hospital in town. 

And so that’s how ends up rushing the final touches on Carmine. She’s his ride since the Shiroganes loaned their car to their niece who was attending college from out-of-state. Keith also has an inkling that Hana and Ryou weren’t ready to face Takashi yet, not with the way they left things those months ago.

Roughly a year ago, his brother, Takashi, or as most people referred to him, ‘Shiro’, had made the abrupt decision to switch from full-time professional triathlete training to joining the armed forces. When his parents had asked, he wouldn’t provide an answer beyond, “It’s something I must to do for myself.” Three months later, in a similar fashion, he announced that he was being deployed overseas for the next year. If Hana and Ryou were worried before, now they were terrified, his adopted father fuming and his adopted mother in tears. 

On one hand, Keith could see where they were coming from, having already lost one child, Shiro was their only remaining living biological child. Sure, they might have adopted Keith and he was forever grateful for their compassion and support, yet deep within himself, part of him still didn’t see them as _his parents_ and suspected they didn’t see him as _their real son_ either. He imagined that when they lost Kurou, it had left a distinct scar, much like when he had lost his own father. Just as they weren’t a replacement for his parents, he wasn’t a replacement for their other son, and he was alright with that. Hence, he could sympathize with their fear upon hearing Shiro’s declaration. It sounded like a risky assignment. There was a possibility that he might not return. He might lose his brother for good.

On the other hand, he knew Shiro, or so he liked to believe so. His brother was a kind and ambitious soul and once he set his mind on something, he seldom ever backed down. Keith himself had been on the receiving end of that unyielding resolution, with his brother never once giving up on him despite the countless ‘incidents’ growing up. Rain or shine, no matter where or who, Shiro had his back. A voice of reason when his temper tempted to get the better of him. A helping hand when he was willing to accept it. And on the rare occasion, a shoulder to cry on when things became too much. It was his brother’s drive to always do his best that inspired Keith to do better. To be better. 

All of this led up to him zipping through the city streets like a madman on an overcast Spring afternoon, on his way to see the man he thought he might not ever see alive again a few months ago. He is a ball of nerves as he parks his brand new vehicle beneath the hospital parking structure, making his way through the double-door entrance and down lengthy, antiseptic-washed corridors. Eventually, he rounds the corner that should take him to his brother’s room according to the nurse, only to find a petite figure seated outside the supposed room. Twin copper pigtails brush against either side of her lowly hung head, attention solely on the device between her fingers. Beyond her, he hears two voices from within the room, one he recognizes off the bat as Shiro’s and the other he has no clue.

Normally, the presence of strangers would be enough to deter Keith but his eagerness to see his brother outweighed his hesitancy.

“Are you here to see Takashi Shirogane?” He asks the girl.

“Sort of, my brother is a friend.” she replies apathetically, gaze still locked on the device.

“I see.” He takes the seat beside her. “What’re you working on there?”

“Transmitter.” She squints, concentrating on the device she’s fiddling with, “Nearly...and,” rotating it over, she squeezes and clicks a knob into place.“Yes!” It’s a soft exclamation of accomplishment. In the next beat, she’s up and reaching for the door handle, and calling through the narrow space of the now ajar door. “Matt! It’s done!”

“Great, come in here and let’s test it.” echoes the mystery voice from before.

When the door swings open, Keith spots an older male version of the girl, whom he assumes is ‘Matt’, sitting beside the edge of the bed. His hair is a shade lighter than hers and his forearms are littered with gauze pads. He wears a light-hearted smile that stays when he spies Keith. “Oh Pidge, who’s your friend?”

“He’s here for Shiro,” she shrugs, paying him no mind.

Then Keith sees him.

He looks worn, like someone forced him to live five years in a few months. Those dark grey eyes he knows so well have lost a little of their sparkle, though still no less kind than Keith remembers them. Dark circles sit under them and a new streak of white falls between, hanging from the front of his hairline. 

Then he sees Keith.

The large bandage stretches horizontally across the bridge of his nose, uncrinkling and recrinkling as his expression morphs from startled to anxious, then comfort, and lastly cheer.

“Keith?” 

Although it’s canty, he doesn’t think he’s ever heard his brother sound so small. Shiro has always been caring but never small. It only twists the knot sitting in his stomach. Why is he nervous? It’s just his brother. His brother who had taught him how to drive and read a topographic map.His guardian angel and biggest defender.

At the same time it’s not the same Shiro. He could tell from the moment he saw those eyes. There are news walls behind them. He’s not sure if they are like his own but either way it warns Keith that things may not go exactly back to the way they were.

Same or not, his brother was alive and right there in front of him. Shiro was there when Keith needed him and so Keith was now determined to do the same. It was the right thing to do. The only thing to do. 

Raising one of his sweaty palms, he greets his brother, “Hi.”

* * *

**_Present_ **

Keith fidgets with the bottle between his palms. He hadn’t planned to be out tonight, yet somehow the universe has a knack for messing with him. All he wanted was a peaceful weekday night in. Just him, a few boxes of takeout, a pencil and sketchbook. But nooo, a certain someone insisted he needed back-up for his date in case it went south. On top of that Pidge was dead set on getting her hands on the newest release of _Killbot Phantasm_ , and Shiro wouldn’t stop pestering him about not being able to spend enough quality time with his little brother of recent. Hunk would have joined them but he had finally asked Shay out, much to everyone’s joy and not quite surprise, so he was understandably unavailable tonight. Thus, that’s how Keith found himself alone at a bar on the main boulevard, waiting on his brother to finish his phone conversation with a potential future sponsor and his friend to return from the gaming store a few blocks over. 

_I should have stayed home._

He is downing the last of his beer when notices a silhouette moving closer towards him. Instead of the dual-toned undercut or short amber locks he was expecting, it's slick-back caramel blonde. He can feel the stranger’s hazel irises lock on him. They’re framed by a pair of dark-rimmed spectacles and followed by a gruff, urbane voice, “I thought you looked familiar.”

“Umm hi?” It’s not as if he doesn’t appreciate the special attention, particularly if it’s coming from a handsome stranger in a casual patterned suit. However, something’s amiss. He can’t quite place him but he swears he’s seen this Brioni model somewhere.

“Fancy meeting you here,” chips the tall drink of water.

“Sorry. Have we met?” He doesn’t mean to be rude but he really wants to avoid any potential awkwardness that comes from misconceptions on their apparent dynamic. 

_Someone from work?_ Work does mean meeting strangers on a regular basis. _Someone from college?_ He wasn’t a very social animal back then and still isn’t but it wasn’t impossible. _A friend of a friend?_ He only had so few friends and they were a tightly knit bunch that was rather unlikely. _A long forgotten one-night-stand?_ He didn’t even want to consider that possibility. 

“Aren’t you the medic from that other time? Sorry, I probably look a little different.” The confusion must have been evident on his face because Mr. Blonde and Bourgeoisie removes his spectacles and ruffles his hair. Then it hits him. 

“Oh, you're umm,” he tries to find normal words but as per usual when it comes to forced fairly sober social interactions with attractive new people, his brain doesn’t compute. “You’re Mr. my-hyperactive-dog-caused-me-to-face-plant-on-concrete’s 911 caller, right?”

The man chuckles into his elbow. “That’s a mouthful of a nickname and yes. Antonio, but you can call me Anton.”

He wasn’t on duty. His brother practically abandoned him for the moment and who knows when Pidge would return or if Lance would even need back-up for his date. He was allowed to have this. And like Lance, if it didn’t go so well, he could use Shiro, Pidge or even Lance as an out. He may not have Lance’s charisma or Shiro’s cool but Keith had a few moves of his own. So, straightening his posture and showcasing the tiniest smile, he extends a hand to the gentleman, “Nice to meet you Anton. Keith.”

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

Reluctantly, he pulls backs as his breathing slowly evens out. His heartbeat is racing. His lips are slightly swollen. His face is flushed. His hair’s a mess, no longer in its ponytail. There’s pulsing ache in his pants that he predicts might become a problem if he continues to ignore his brother’s calls and the steady stream of ‘pings’ from Pidge’s texts.

“It’s ok if you have to go.” says his new acquaintance, with a soft, disappointed gaze. “Maybe next time we could grab coffee instead?”

 _Next time huh?_ It’s been a while since he’s been on a real date. Anton continues before Keith can supply an answer, “Let me give you my number and you can decide if that’s a yes.”

After the taller man unlatches the door, they exit the bathroom stall and Keith hands his phone over, and faces the wide mirror. He’s retied his ponytail when Anton passes him back the phone, leaving him with a peck on the cheek.

Alone again, Keith scrolls through his unread texts and missed calls.

There is a string of seven texts from Pidge, ranging from irrtantance to minacious, and four missed calls from Shiro.

Scratch that, three missed calls from Shiro.

**[ Sap_Sharpshooter (Lance M.) 7:47 PM ]**

* * *

**_10th Grade_ **

He had opted for HomeEc as an elective this semester because he assumed it was going to be an easy A. Lance never expected baking to require this much attention, or arm strength.

_Was it baking powder or baking soda?_

It’s too late to change it anyways. There’s flour on his shirt sleeves and batter under his fingernails. He isn’t sure if cupcake batter is supposed to be this wet. Some spills over the edges of the tin as he pours it from the bowl.

_I should have gone with Art History._

He knows he shouldn’t do this for food safety reasons. _Salmonella or something_ ? Regardless, his inner child can’t resist and he dips a finger in and pops it in his mouth to taste. _Oh no._ Not two shakes later he’s spitting into a paper towel. 

“Hey, are you alright?” asks someone concerned from behind him.

It was that same boy from his physics class, with the interesting name Lance recalls he couldn’t pronounce. He had tagged him a gentle giant of sorts. Tan, heavy set, and soft-spoken. 

“I think I just added salt instead of sugar…” groans Lance in frustration. How could he be so stupid? 

“Yeah, that’s big no no,” agrees his classmate.

He spares a glance at the clock and curses internally. “Dang it, and we have less than twenty minutes left.” He is about ready to raise a white flag. Submit to the fact that he has the culinary skills of a five year old when he feels light tap on his shoulder.

Holding a bowl out to Lance, the burly boy’s smile brims with kindness. “Here’s you some or my batter if you like. I have extra since I tend to get over enthusiastic with baking.”

Lance blinks at him for confirmation and the boy nudges the bowl a little closer.

“Thank you so much man, you’re a lifesaver!” he chirps, cautiously removing the bowl from the boy’s hands. “I’m Lance by the way.”

“Ho'opi'i.” 

_This guy deserves a great nickname._

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

The bell has rung and he’s on his way to meet Rachel outside when Lance recognizes a face. It’s his new friend from HomeEc and by what he can tell, Lance has caught him in the middle of deliberating a confession.

He's staring at a chatty brunette girl across the hall, with one of the cupcakes they had made earlier in his hand, neatly wrapped in pink polka dot cellophane. 

Eager to return the kindness ‘Hopey?’ had shown previously, he waltzes up to the transfixed boy. “She’ll love it.” He jumps upon hearing Lance’s but relaxes once he sees who it is.

“But what if she thinks it’s stupid.” he maffles timidly, like a bunny readying itself to face a bear. Lance was right, this guy was the definition of a gentle giant. 

Lance amps up the bravado. “Turn down a hunk like you? She wouldn’t.”

His friend gives him a perplexed look. 

He explains as if it wasn’t obvious, pointing out his friends' stature. “What? It fits. Large, strong, attractive male.”

Lance provides him with one last excuse, “And if she does, you have an extra cupcake to eat,” and subsequently shoves him in an act of encouragement. “Go get her Hunk!”

* * *

**_Present_ **

It’s quarter to eight and Trish hasn’t shown or texted. A flurry of doubts began to sweep through. Was he being stood up? Was it not going as well as he thought? Had she gotten bored with him or decided he wasn’t good enough? Was that why she’d shy away from some touches? 

His hand reaching for his phone, he scrolls through his contact list and instinctively presses a familiar caller ID. 

It rings once. Twice. He is about to be blinded by the onslaught of negativity that threatens to turn his evening into another night of floundering over his perpetual bachelor status, when he hears the ‘whoosh’ of the restaurant doors opening. He spots her telltale red curls the second she enters, dropping the call. Letting out a heavy sigh of relief, he sends her a wave and she scurries her way over to him. 

“Hi.” He stands to greet her with a brief hug.

“Evening. Sorry I’m late. Traffic was horrendous.” she apologizes, hanging her purse over the chair and settling into her seat.

Dismissing his earlier agitations, he’s adamant to start the night on a positive note. “It’s alright. You look really nice tonight.” 

“Thank you,” she accepts the compliment with grace. 

Much to his dismay, he opens the menu and realizes he’s never heard of any of the items, likely due to the fact he’s never had Pakistani fusion food. When he looks back up at her, she’s sporting a very knowing expression and so he lets her take the lead. “So what’s good here?”

\--------------------------------------- xxxx ---------------------------------------

Discounting their late start and Lance trying and failing to read their orders to the waiter, the rest of the dinner goes smoothly. They chat to each other about work and other everyday ongoings. She shows him she can balance a spoon on her nose and he lets her hear his impression of a dolphin. The next time he checks, it’s coming to ten and they’re two of the few remaining patrons. 

They are waiting for the receipt when without warning, the carefree, upbeat aura of the last two hours is swiftly replaced with a more solemn one.

She stares down at her lap, voice rife with unease. “Lance, there’s something I should tell you.”

He was right after all. Tonight was going to be a night of disappointment. It was too good to be true. He inhales through his nose and holds it, desperately trying to maintain his unassuming appearance. “Yes?”

“Perhaps you’ve wondered already and it has nothing to do with you personally but I think you deserve to know.” She sounds almost guilty, only adding to the tension he feels pressing into his chest.

His tiny nod signs for her to continue and her head drops while his fists clench underneath the table, bracing himself for another rejection.

Coughing once, she murmurs, calm and controlled, “I don’t foresee us getting intimate anytime soon... I’m not there yet and I don’t know when I will be.”

It’s not an outright rejection but he can’t chase away that sense of somehow being inadequate. Her frown lines disappear with a huff of resignation and she resumes what Lance guesses will be her defense.

“In my previous relationship, we were together for a long time. We got together pretty young and I crossed multiple lines with him before I was ready. It never did sink in till it was too late. I don’t hate him for it though. He gave me the chance to say no. I think I was either too eager to please or afraid to disappoint. It got to a point where we weren’t, I wasn’t doing it out of love. I’m not saying I don’t trust you or it’ll never happen between you and I. It’s just...I really want to set my own pace this time. ” 

It takes him a moment to digest what he’d just heard, and unsure of how he should react, all that left his mouth was a pathetic, “I uhh..”

“I understand if you want to look for something else after this. I know everybody has umm,” pausing to flick a stray hair from her face, “ **different needs** in a relationship.” she admits through a defeated sigh, sounding close to how he felt mere minutes ago. Her statement prods him to reflect.

What were his needs in a relationship? 

Trust? Definitely. 

Communication? Without a doubt. 

Playfulness? It was very high on the list. 

Physical intimacy? He’d always viewed it as a natural part of any healthy relationship but never truly stopped to contemplate if sex was “essential” for him, at least not since before puberty. 

He remembers his Mama’s words. _You can’t hurry love. It_ _isn’t easy. It’s both give and take._

At that, he has made up his mind. He surrenders his facade, letting out a fragmented laugh and she frowns at his response.

“Lance, if you think this is a joke then maybe we should end this.”

He hastily gatherers himself the best he could. “No, no, no. And here I thought I was the one who was going to get dumped tonight,” audibly breathing his attempt to clarify. “I’m glad you told me. I really like you Trish and that’s,” stopping to clear his throat, “not **a need** for me, a want maybe. I’m happy where we are now and want to see where it takes us yeah? That’s if you still want to...”

His fingers don’t stay crossed for long because she accepts his proposition instantly. “Oh Lance, of course I do. Thank you for understanding.” He melts at the sound of her alleviation.

They part with a chaste kiss and it is drizzling by the time Lance gets to his car, but it does nothing to dampen the his mood. 

* * *

**_Freshman Year(1st Year of University)_ **

He twirls the pen in his hand, trying his best to concentrate on the physiology assignment he has in front of him. There’s an incessant tapping sound coming from furious typing a couple of feet away, where Pidge has planted herself in Keith’s swivel chair. 

Even when they both were swamped by their new schedules, they’ve somehow managed to keep hanging out on a regular basis, something he had dreaded they would lose when both of them began attending different colleges. 

Sarcastic, sharp-witted and intelligent beyond belief, Pidge was a force to be reckoned with and had wiggled her way into his life after their first meeting three years ago. Initially, they had bonded over a shared dedication to accommodate and support their older siblings upon their return from battle. Many days and nights were spent together as Shiro and Matt recovered and adjusted back into normal, everyday life. In due course, they found other things they shared that grew them closer, such as their enthusiasm for sci-fi monsters and myth-busting. Also, both were disinclined towards the stereotypical teenage social endeavors, abandoning them in favor of tamer nights in where they’d marathon old films or retro video games.

Their personalities were decently matched as well. They were both stubborn and had a rebellious streak, Keith’s being more subdued whereas Pidge’s was uninhibited. Additionally, though she exhibited it less frequently than Keith, Pidge could be just temperamental, with even less fear of consequences. 

So there they were, in Keith’s bedroom on a Friday night, trapped by their own commitment to school and indifference towards the party scene.

Finding that his mind has wandered elsewhere, he initiates conversation. “So, has Matt decided?”

Her vision never strays from the screen as she answers. “No, he’s spent the last week going back and forth. I have a hunch he’ll choose the internship.”

Their amiable silence resumes, until it is broken once more, this time by Pidge.

“I heard Shiro’s triathlete training again,” she casually remarks.

“Yeah, he’s just started training with a new coach at some fancy rec facility last week.” Keith smiles through his words. It was nice to see his brother excited about his original dream again.

“Careful Keith, soon Shiro might reclaim his title as the fittest brogane.” Her back may be faced to him but he sees her smirk.

His mind is too weary from studying to retort so instead he grunts, “Give me a break. Between being halfway done with EMT training and trying to graduate a semester early, cutting time at the gym isn’t a sin.” 

There’s an undertone of genuinity in her next question. “Speaking of school, have you thought about what I said the last time?”

He has thought about it. He wants to but he isn’t confident he could and has a feeling his response will elicit a short debate. “Yeah. I’m not sure. Garrison’s paramedic program is one of the best in the region, but their admissions is pretty competitive and I don’t think I’m cut out for all that.”

“It isn’t as hard as you’re making it out to be. I mean I wrote about the potential for AI in healthcare for my admissions essay for goodness sake. Super original am I right?” 

“Well sorry if not all of us can be tech-wiz prodigies that get awarded scholarships to enter college two years early Pidge,”

“Don’t sell yourself short Edgelord, you said so yourself, you’re on track to complete your program a semester early and are halfway done with the training for your EMT cert.” Her tone has shifted from strictly satiric to something mixed with an ounce of sincerity. “You may be an impulsive idiot sometimes but by no means are you dumb.”

He lets himself imagine and recoils straightaway. “Still, can you imagine me living the **college life**? All that constant interaction with strangers?” 

They might both be introverts, except Pidge possessed the social graces that Keith arguably lacked. 

“Keith, you're trying to become a paramedic, that means your daily life will be interacting with strangers.” 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean actually socializing with them.”

“Oh come on, it’ll be fun! Think of all the boys,” she coos without shame. 

“Whenever you mention fun, it usually precedes suffering for me.”

Finally she turns around, a glimpse of earnestness behind those wide lens glasses. “Just consider it alright?”

“Okay.” he huffs in defeat.

* * *

**_Present_ **

Lance is halfway home, happily humming to the tune on the radio when he gets a call from his flatmate. Riding up to a red light, he touches the dashboard to answer. “Hey man, what’s up?” 

A vaguely spent sounding Keith travels through the speaker. “Sorry, I missed your call earlier. You still need an out?”

With everything that had happened tonight, it slipped Lance’s mind that he had dialed Keith at all. “Oh right, I totally forgot. No need. False alarm.”

“Cool.” It is said in a manner that even from a single word, Lance can tell his friend has had a somewhat eventful night of his own. With that in mind, as much as he is buzzing to tell Keith all about his night, he’ll withhold.

“Yeah, I’m actually on my way back now. I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.” 

“Kay. Later then.”

“Later. Bye.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- HomeEc is short for Home Economics(aka. How to be a Domestic Spouse 101)  
> \- Yes, ‘Minnie’(aka. Keith’s motorcycle) is short for ‘Carmine’  
> \- I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now but just in case, Keith is a Firefighter Paramedic(BOM is the Fire Station/Unit); he originally just wanted to become a firefighter like his dad but Shiro losing his arm inspired him to want to do medic work
> 
> Chapter Songs:  
> \- [You Can’t Hurry Love(The Supremes/Phil Collins Cover)  
>  \- ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iBVGwHFT144)[He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother(The Hollies)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ifyUPYXwdIc)  
> \- [Hopeless Romantic(Meghan Trainor)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9unH_Rum7YY)  
> Next chapter: Younger Klance reunion; older Lance has a special request for Keith


End file.
